The Magnificent Seven Cats: Feisty, Old Toms
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: Feisty, old toms tend to get into trouble, but they certainly pack a wallop when they do. Catpeople AU. Slash. Het.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Magnificent Seven Cats AU: "Feisty, Old Toms"  
Author: Kat Lee  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Summary: Feisty, old toms tend to get into trouble, but they certainly pack a wallop when they do.  
Warnings: TM7 Cats AU, Slash, Het  
Word Count: 7,024  
Timeline: Follows the author's Let Freedom Ring; Once Upon A Kittenhood; Awakening; Black Christmas; Come Home, Chris; Not This Day; One Day Out West; The Lonely Trail Of His Life; Spray Time; The World's Best Fisherman; Love and Responsibilities; Learning The Native Way; The Big Faith; Praise To The Goddess; Buck's Bountiful Prey; A Real Man's Drink; Love Sees Only Hearts; The Paws of Deliverance; Desires of the Heart; Harvest Time; Love and Fury; To Harvest Love's Bounty; Beautiful Day; and As The Storm Rages - all part of The Magnificent Seven Cats series!  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters mentioned within, Four Corners, and The Magnificent Seven are © & TM CBS, The Mirisch Group, MGM, and Trilogy Entertainment, not the author. Lassie is © & TM her rightful owners, also not the author. Everything else contained within is the author's. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
Author's Note: Any one who wants to play in this universe may do so with two exceptions: We ask that you give Queen Cindy and ourselves, Pirates Turner and Sparrow, proper credit for the creation of this AU and we require that you absolutely do not kill or greatly injure any of these characters, the latter being due to the fact that we do not want such a thing to come back and bite our sweet children. Yes, the beings who are mixed with the Seven to make this new breed of heroes, as well as the other characters, are very real and dear to our hearts. :-) They have all already been rescued from various dangers and perils in the world, and we do not wish to have to do so again nor would we ever wish such tragedy upon our loved ones. We have pictures of the kids used herein if any one would like to see.

**Chapter One**

Buck yawned, his pink tongue lolling out of his furry mouth, as he walked outside of his teepee. He stretched and blinked in the bright rays of the morning sun. He had slept later than he had intended, but he wasn't surprised as he'd been unable to get to sleep for worrying about Chris until he'd finally drank his concerns into easement. He lifted his spotted head and sniffed the air in search of his love's scent.

His pointed ears immediately laid back against his head, and he gave a soft yowl. He didn't smell anything fresh! He walked on, sniffing the air and following Chris' scent until it led him to where his horse had been the night before . . . and was now gone! Buck's green eyes flashed, and he yowled again!

The nearby natives rustled restlessly and looked up from their various tasks. The two other catmen in the village approached him. "Brother, whatever is so greatly wrong?" the large, gray catman questioned.

His ebony companion shook his furry head as his whiskers bristled. "You know ya ain't even got to ask him, Josiah! Chris left out this morning!"

Buck yowled again at the news. He grasped Nathan by his collar before he could stop himself and rein in his instincts. "Which way he'd go?" he growled, his fangs flashing.

"West. Probably to Four Corners."

Josiah placed a hand on Buck's arm, his own fur bristling at the way the man he, Nathan, and the natives had saved from certain death was treating his lifemate. "Release him," he commanded.

Buck gave a soft growl but did as the High Priest requested. Nathan staggered a bit but kept his footing. He straightened his collar as he told him, "We tried to stop him."

"Why didn't you wake me?!" Buck demanded.

"We . . . " Nathan's dark eyes shifted away from him and to Josiah's green orbs before falling to the dirt beneath their feet.

"We thought you were . . . otherwise . . . occupied . . . " Josiah supplied, choosing his words carefully.

"With what?!" Every strand of Buck's fur and whiskers quivered with the fury that filled him and threatened to cloud his judgement again. "With that mousewoman," he hissed, "from last night?!"

Josiah and Nathan quietly inclined their heads in matching nods.

"Ain't ever gonna happen again!" Buck's long, spotted tail cut wickedly through the air. "And it didn't happen last night! Ain't no woman can hold this tom down again, and they ain't getting in my bed ever again - not after what happened - not after how I let him down, how I let them all down!" He yowled miserably as tears fell down his furry, black and white cheeks.

Yet again, he mentally condemned himself for Sarah's death. If only he'd not taken Chris away from her that night! If only Chris had not been so willing to go with him when Buck had threatened to chase skirts while in town to make sure he came! None of those damn queens had ever meant a thing to him, but he'd continued to bed them as he'd struggled to hide the truth of the way that Mother Nature had made him! It was Chris he loved, Chris who he could only ever love, and Chris who his foolishness had condemned to lose his other best friend and seek his own death because of his grief and self-blame.

As fury filled him, Buck threw back his head and yowled so loudly that his heart-breaking wail of miserable anguish echoed throughout the village. The micepeople had had enough; they scampered into their teepees for cover and pulled their flaps closed behind them.

Josiah's long, white-tipped tail whisked as he clasped Buck's shoulders in his large, furry hands. "It's okay, brother. There's plenty enough time for you to denounce your sins later and to seek redemption, but for now, we must get after Chris."

Buck's eyes slit back open, and he glowered down at the Priest. "You should have called me."

"So we should have," Josiah agreed.

"We thought there was more than friendship between you two," Nathan spoke back up, his own black tail twitching maddeningly, "but we also thought you were beginning to move on. You never have really told us what's happened to you," he gently reminded him. "We're sorry. We tried to keep him."

"It's all right," Buck grumbled. Shoving Josiah's caring hands off, he turned and ran for his horse, but no sooner had he saddled Beavis and turned to leave the village than he found himself flanked a second time. He looked questioningly up into Josiah's and Nathan's furry faces and, for the first time, realized that the gray fur around Josiah's right eye was darkened and flattened and that the sleeve of Nathan's jacket had been ripped. He gave a half-hearted grin despite the pain and turmoil that filled his heart. "He gave ya a heck of a fight, didn't he?"

Josiah's tail whipped as he returned his friend's smile with one of his own. "Indeed." He winked. "We're all feisty, old toms."

Buck nodded in agreement, but then warned them, his spotted fur shuffling along his body, "It's probably best I go after him by myself."

"Maybe. Probably even," Nathan agreed, nodding, "given the injuries that he's gonna give us, but you're not in this alone any more, Buck. We're your friends. Let us come with you and try to help. If you can't get anywhere talking to him, maybe Josiah can."

"Didn't work this morning."

"No, it did not, but that won't stop me from trying again no matter how many times it takes before he listens to reason."

Buck's grin twisted. He knew all the words in the world wouldn't help to tamper Chris' anger down and that he'd shoot Reason down dead if given the chance, but his instincts and heart also told him that he wasn't riding out of this village alone. If he left by himself, he'd still be followed. He nodded one more time. "Then let's ride!" He urged Beavis into a full blown gallop and was surprised by the Priest's rough command of, "HEE YAW!"

Josiah and Nathan swiftly caught up with Buck. The three friends rode together through the desert, their tails held high and their thoughts and hearts consumed by the image of one man.

* * *

Miles away, a lone tom lifted his dark head, and his black ears folded against the top of his furry head as he heard voices raising behind him. His tail whisked angrily through the air as he muttered, "Not again." Every damn time he'd gone anywhere for a drink after Sarah's death, something always happened, and evidently, though it'd been a long time since he'd last gotten to quench his grief in alcohol, that hadn't changed!

**To Be Continued . . . **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

He sat alone at the end of the bar most wrapped in shadows, his long, black tail curled around his booted feet. It had been a long journey out West, and now that he'd gotten here, he'd found very little different from back home. He sighed into his drink and sipped some more of the best concoction Mother Nature had ever created. Okay, so it was vastly different from the East. Everything had changed since he'd left civilization behind - everything but what truly mattered.

The lone tom sighed again and guzzled the remainder down, hoping to keep the memories that haunted him every moment he dared to shut his eyes at bay, but still they came in flashes of his mother's caring face; soft, green eyes; and sweet, knowing smile. He'd realized afterwards that she had known her time was coming, and that was why she had finally told him the truth about his father and given him the money she'd struggled so hard to save so that he could go to school, become an educated catman, and have more than she and his father had ever been able to hope to possess. He, however, like the loyal son he had always been, had continued to hope for a miracle, even up to the day that he had lowered his best friend into the ground.

"Senor?" a soft voice called, and the boy who had been forced to become a man too quickly raised his eyes to the concerned face of a pretty catlady. His big, brown eyes blinked back tears.

"Would you like another round?" the shetabby asked, her long, bushy tail swishing slightly beneath her flowing skirts.

He looked back down into his empty cup, the tip of his own tail twitching. His thirst was quenched, but the milk she offered had been the best thing he'd tasted since leaving home. Still, he had come here on a mission, and his funds, such as they were, were already dwindling. "I . . . "

The Mexican catwoman gave a soft sigh. She'd been watching the boy with caring eyes and a compassionate heart since the moment he'd entered her saloon. Something haunted the lad. Something painful had happened to him in his past, and she knew all too well what a heavy burden that could lay upon one's heart and soul. She also knew that he, like herself, was alone in the world, and her heart went out to him. "It's okay," she whispered, placing a soft, furry hand upon his own.

He looked up at her through startled eyes, and her brow furrowed at the strange sound that left his mouth. "Errw?" He snatched his hand away from hers as though he'd been burned, coughed quickly into that hand, and fished out a couple of fishhead, copper pieces with his other hand. "Thank you, ma'am," he said with a polite tip of his bowler-wearing head, "but that won't be necessary."

The saloon keeper watched the young tomcat through startled, puzzled eyes but nodded, took the money he placed into her furry hand, filled his drink, and started to go about her business. She stopped and her head jerked up, her ears flattening, however, as the doors to her saloon were suddenly thrown wide open and several men stumbled in. They headed straight for the spot where she and the boy were, their tails slashing through the air and their booted feet stumbling a bit as they made their way.

"Get up, boy," the man in the lead snarled, kicking the legs of the lad's chair. "Let a real man sit down."

The woman witnessed the panick flaring in the boy's brown eyes and quickly stepped back to the counter. "He was sitting there first, senor. If you wish to have a drink, I'll be happy to serve you elsewhere."

"Yer'll serve us wherever I want ya to, bitch!"

This time, when the tomcat snarled, Inez was close enough to feel his putrid, alcohol-ridden breath wash over her furry, striped face and smell every inch of his foul odor. Her pink nose wrinkled in distaste, and her ears once more laid back against her head. Nausea circled her stomach, and her soft fur bristled. "Actually, sir, I think you've already had more than enough tonight." She started to reach underneath the counter but was stopped when he leaned forward and grabbed her arm.

"Goin' fer th' shotgun, missy? Now that ain't very ladylike. My buddies an' I wanna do business with ya, and then maybe," his eyebrows wagged and his bobtail jerked meaningfully, "we'll do business o' another kind later up the stairs if you're real nice to me."

"Leave the lady alone."

The gang of catmen's ears flickered back and forth. Their fur ruffled slightly, and their tails whipped through the air. "Did I hear that right?" growled their leader. "Did the little kitten here speak up?"

"I said," the young man repeated, lifting his head and meeting the other guy's eyes, "leave her alone." He kept the hand wrapped around his mug in clear sight as he reached for his pistol with his other hand underneath the table. He froze, however, when he felt something hard press into his back and heard the telltale click of a gun as it was cocked into place.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," the tomcat who stood directly behind him with his pistol aimed straight into the Kit's back murmured.

"Yeah," another of the group sniggered. "Wouldn't want it to backfire, or Jake here to fire." He laughed.

"Boom," an orange tomcat, with frazzled fur and wild, slanted eyes, spoke. "You're dead!" He laughed hysterically at his own joke.

"Let's take a look at this kitten," their leader demanded. "Siamese fur. Might be worth a peso or two."

JD tried to jerk his head away from the gang's leader who reached his dirty fingers out for his chin, but he was held in place by the pistol against his back. The leader grinned, his yellowed fangs flashing, and used the butt of his own gun to knock JD's bowler hat off of his head. Inez, the gathered men, and all their onlookers gasped as the Kit's hat fell to the floor and two big, brown ears flopped down against his head.

"Boss!" one of the intoxicated catmen yelped. "You know what got ears like that?"

"Only thing I ever seen look like that," put in a second catman, "is a dogman!"

"Yeah," a third agreed, every inch of his yellow fur fluffed out to its fullest extent.

"But look at him!" a fourth cried. "He looks just like one o' us everywhere else!"

"'Cept for his eyes!" put in a fifth. "Look at them there shifty eyes, boys! Ya ever seen any that color o' brown?"

"Not that deep . . . " another said thoughtfully.

"Or that dark," the first agreed. "Yeah! He's gotta be one!"

"But where'd he get the tail?" puzzled the fourth.

Their leader whistled, cutting into their conversation and bringing all attention back to him. "You know what we got here, boys?"

"Nah. What we got, boss?" the fourth tomcat, a ratty-eared tabby, asked.

Their leader grinned, his every dirty and chipped fang shining wickedly in the dim light. "We got us a freak o' nature!" he proclaimed. "An' ya know what we do wit' a freak, don't cha?"

"Nah . . . "

"What do we do wit' 'im?"

"Ain't ever seen nothin' like him before."

"What's a freak?"

"We beat him?"

"No." The leader's green eyes gleamed in the shadows. "We put him out o' his, an' th' world's misery. We hang 'im, boys."

JD's big, brown eyes shot even larger and wider as they filled with panick. He tried to make a run for it, but the gang moved on him as one. He managed to get a lucky shot in to one of their stomachs that sent the yellow tomcat barreling back into the bar, but the ragged tabby and one-eared gray held him tight.

Inez fought to break away from the hold the gang's bobcat leader had on her, but he kept her arm tight. She screamed as he twisted it so hard that pain flared up through her arm and into every inch of her body. Still, her fur bristling, she fought to break away and reach her gun. "Ain't happenin', bitch," he growled at her, his scruffy ears laid back against his head.

He hissed and snarled in warning, and when she kept struggling, he backhanded her with such strength that the impact sent her hurtling back against her walls of liquor. Bottles crashed as she fell into them, and one struck her head. "We'll be back," he snarled in satisfaction at the sight of her body laying so still in the broken glass.

A bullet suddenly blazed through the air. It bounced off of a corner of one of the emptied shelves and sailed back around to slam into one of the tomcats who still stood behind his leader.

The bobcat whirled around with a snarl to see who had dared to shoot at his men. His green eyes widened in surprise at the solitary white tomcat dressed in red finery. His cool gaze calculated the other tom as he studied him inquisitively. "Nice shot, pard," he muttered.

"Dreadful," the stranger replied in a thick, Southern drawl. "Ah was aiming to kill you, sir, but the mirror was cracked."

**To Be Continued . . . **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The white stranger's baby blue eyes flickered to where Inez had gone down. "That is no way to treat a lady."

"She got in my way."

The white tom steadied his gun dead at the bobcat's heart even as he heard other guns clicking to the ready. "Ah believe it was you who stood in her way. It certainly was yoah companions and yoahself who disgruntled tonight's festivities."

The bobcat's fur bristled. "You can't take us all," he snarled in warning.

The bobcat growled, his fangs once again showing, as the white cat, whose frilly clothing would, in one glance, hint that he was not a concern, flicked out a second derringer. Their fur ruffled as they stared each other down. Keeping his smaller derringer aimed at the bobcat, Ezra Standish slowly traveled the aim of his primary derringer over the gang of catmen. "Ah have no intentions of taking you all, but Ah shall at least claim two of you." His blue eyes sparkled dangerously, and his white, fluffy plume of a tail whisked through the air behind him as he commanded, "Ah suggest you discuss amongst yourselves which othah individual you would prefer to lose his life tonight, sir, as your own body will surely take mah other shot." He smiled, and though his smile was brilliant, there was no warmth and only cold determination and warning in his expression.

The bobcat again sized the gambler up. He knew he meant business, and he knew there was no way that he could get all of his friends and himself out pass him and through the door to the freedom of the streets beyond. His short bob of a tail jerked wildly as he contemplated the unexpected situation within which he'd found himself. "How 'bout we make a deal?"

Ezra's blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What sort of a deal would you propose, sir?" he questioned, the tip of his plume whipping about with a fervor. Sarcasm dripped from his pink tongue each time he spoke the word "sir", and it was clear to every one that his opinion of this rangy bobcat was far below anything a sir would walk upon, let alone the impossibility of his being an actual sir himself.

The bobcat snatched the dogboy to him by his collar. JD growled instinctively, and he smirked down into his face before turning his attention back to the gambler. "This pup mean anything to you?"

Ezra stilled. He heard the whispers of the others in the saloon and clearly remembered his mother's words through the times he'd spent with her, though each and every time had always proven to be short and restless. She would call him a fool if she could see him now, acting the hero in defense of the lady and a dogboy. Anxiety whispered through Ezra's fluffy, long fur as he remembered all the times that he had ever had the displeasure of encountering dogpeople. They were beneath catpeople and would always be, and he would not be such a fool as to lay his life on the line for one.

He gestured with one of his derringers toward the double doors of the saloon. "Take the lad," he told them, "but leave the lady alone and do not return."

The bobcat grinned. "Whatever ya say, boss." He chuckled darkly, and Ezra watched, feeling uneasy, as the gang looped a rope around the dogboy's neck and pulled him outside. Just before they could shove him through the door, the dogboy's big, brown eyes full of desperation and silent pleas beseechingly met Ezra's blue orbs. The gambler stiffened and lowered his head, unable to meet the boy's begging, teary eyes.

Then he was gone, and the gambler sighed as he returned his guns to their proper holsters. He quickly slid his deck of cards into their box and slipped them into his pocket. Then he stood and walked around the counter, still all too aware that every eye in the place was upon him. He was grateful to get away from the other catpeople's scrutiny when he knelt behind the counter and pulled Inez to him.

Her green eyes blinked open at Ezra's tender touch. "The boy?" she gasped, her tail weakly twitching.

He lowered his head and refused to meet her gaze. "They have taken him."

She looked at him with wide, hurt eyes. "Why didn't you stop them?!" she cried.

He paused before asking softly, "It was six to one, senorita. Would you have had me died to protect a dogboy?"

"Nao," she replied softly and honestly, finally managing to reach his eyes with her own imploring gaze, "but I would have had you try to save a life."

"Ah did," Ezra softly stated, his long, white plume whisking. "Yours."

"But you did nothing for him," she stated, pulling herself out of his grasp. She grabbed a hold of a nearby shelf and used it to pull herself up. She grimaced and bit her lip to stop from crying out with the pain that shot through her arm. "And now I'd have you get out from behind my counter, senor."

Ezra looked at her with hurt shining clearly in his soulful, blue eyes, but then he nodded slowly, stood, straightened his clothes, regathered his dignity to himself, and strode out from around the bar and out of the saloon. His mother would have considered him a fool for involving himself enough to save the Mexican catlady who'd managed to waltz into his attention weeks ago and had kept him lingering in this small town ever since their first encounter, but that same lady had just turned him away because he had not laid his life on the line for a creature that should not even be alive.

He shuddered at the thought. How could any self-respecting catwoman allow a dogman to take her to his bed? Then, with a heavy heart, another question came to his mind, and he had no more answer for it than he had for the first query. How could his own mother condemn him for trying to save a life while another woman, a woman whose beauty and compassion he had previously thought knew no limits, condemned him for not sacrificing his life to save that same endangered life? He had no answers, he thought, mewing pitifully to himself, as he walked into the night, his fluffy, white plume whipping about his silk-clad legs.

Inez watched Ezra go and considered the boy she'd seen. Her brown eyes looked to the shotgun she kept beneath her counter. Did she dare attempt again to save him? The leader of the gang had shown her how worthless she was against his catmen. Memories from her past caused her tabby fur to bristle once again, and she moved for her gun.

* * *

"Damn." Chris Larabee sat his emptied tankard down as his long, black tail whisked. He shook his head. He'd been trying this entire time to keep himself from becoming involved in a fight he knew was not his own, but it was a losing battle. "Every damn time I try to get a drink . . . " he muttered between clenched teeth. He lit a cheroot, began both smoking and chewing it, and walked out.

* * *

JD yowled as the gang dragged him out of the saloon. They had taken his guns, but he was still far from defenseless. His claws unsheathed and he slashed out only to have one of the catmen pull the rope around his neck even tighter. His brown eyes were filled with fear and panic as another knife pressed close to his throat and the gray whispered huskily, "Ya pull that crap again, an' I'm gonna cut 'em off 'fore ya die one by one."

"Oughta cut 'em off any way," the orange laughed. "He's more dog 'n cat. He don't deserve 'em!"

"Maybe not," reasoned the black and white, "but we're not into torture. We jest here to make sure he gets what he deserves."

"Yeah," snickered the orange. "A short drop from a long rope!"

JD opened his mouth to say something, but the gray cut off his words by tightening the rope even more around his neck. He could no longer breathe, and his soft, brown eyes bulged as he desperately sought to be able to open his throat even just enough to draw air into his burning lungs. He clawed at the rope surrounding his throat, then screamed inwardly when a quick slash of the knife cut off one of his claws. His eyes filled with tears that he tried, but ultimately failed, to fight, and the catmen around him laughed. Their laughter grew even more boisterous as his furry, chocolate hands fell defeatedly to his sides. He didn't stand a chance of fighting them. If he didn't find a way to somehow break free and run, he was going to die!

JD struggled to come up with a plan as the surly catmen pushed him down the long road running down the town. He saw the townspeople watching him - and every one of them turning away and cursed his luck for having the mud he usually used to keep his ears up grow too soft that day. He'd kept them carefully pinned underneath his bowler since the mud had softened, but they had broken free of that precarious hold when the gang's leader had knocked his bowler hat off of his head. Now his bowler lay discarded in the saloon, and his big, chocolate ears flopped alongside his head in an obvious statement to every one of the twisted creature he truly was.

He shut his eyes against the tears that welled in them, ashamed of himself for showing such cowardly fear in front of these catmen and allowing them to ambush him so easily. He was no hero. He could never be a hero, or even a cowboy. He was a failure. _I'm sorry, Ma,_ he thought despairingly. _I should've found a way to go to college like you told me to do._ His tail twisted and curled around his legs only to be suddenly snatched by one of the laughing catmen.

JD bit down on his tongue to keep from yowling in pain. More tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to open them or let his tears fall to give the catmen even more to laugh at at his demise. He hadn't had much choice, he thought in his defense. The only reason why the family his mother had worked for all his life, and whose kittens he'd grown up alongside, had allowed him to stay on at the mansion as long as he had was because his mother had been such good friends with the Missus and his mother had purrsisted that she would leave to be with her son if they did not allow him to stay.

It seemed to JD that both his beloved mother and he himself had worked their entire lives, but even the money they had managed to save had proven short of being able to send him to college for an entire degree. Now, with the rope of prejudice and hatred burning tightly around his neck, the Kitten realized that he should have taken the money he'd had, built him a small life in the city, worked to procure the rest of the funds he'd need, and then gone to college, but it was far too late now. He would die this day.

But at least he would be reunited with his mother. He could still feel her arms around him and her paws stroking him. He saw her smiling face again in his mind's eye. His chocolate ears twitched as he heard her calling him her baby. _Ma,_ he thought achingly, choking back tears, _I'll be back with you soon._

He cried out only to have his cry silenced as a red-hot pain flared through his right ear. "Don't move those disgustin' things again, boy," growled the orange tomcat, "or I'll slice 'em off o' ya 'fore ya breath yer last."

JD glared at him but could not speak for the rope around his neck. He wanted to be with his mother again, but at the same time he didn't want to die at the callous hands of these cruel and heartless brutes. They saw him as a monster, as did the townspeople who turned their blind eyes and their backs to his plight, but he knew that the catmen who were bent on killing him simply because he was different from them were the real monsters.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Every one's heads shot up as a miracle happened and a gunshot was fired. JD stared in disbelief at the orange catwoman who stood in the way of the gang just a few feet ahead. Even from the distance that separated them, he could smell her femininity, but the black dress that cloaked her fluffy, orange body from her chin to her bottom paws spoke further proof that his nose did not deceive him.

JD's mind whirled. A _catwoman_ was coming to his rescue!? All the catmen in the town, and all the other catwomen too save the saloonkeeper, although he would never have expected the catladies to endanger themselves for his lowly life, were turning away from him but a _catwoman_ was facing down these monsters?! What kind of men were these catmen?! And she was orange, he realized, the color of his mother!

JD stared at the catwoman who pointed her gun at the gang who held him prisoner as though she was an Angel. Nearly every person in town was now on the boardwalk, gawking in disbelief as the town's sole reporter stood valiantly between the drunken gang of catmen and the hangman's noose they were intent upon finalizing around the Siamese dogkitten's neck. "Let the boy go," she demanded, and though Mary's knees were shaking underneath the long, dark skirts of her dress, her voice was level and firm. "Go home. Go to your families. Let the kitten go."

The leader barked out his laughter, and all his men sniggered behind him. The orange catwoman leveled her gun straight at the leader's heart. "The next one isn't going to be in the air," she stated with firm assertion and belief.

"Get out of our way, woman!"

"No." Her full plume of a tail swished its way out from underneath her skirts, and the catmen laughed even harder as they realized that she meant business. JD gulped and struggled with renewed vigor and strength as they advanced upon the valiant catwoman. She couldn't even begin to hope to be a match for them, but he knew she wasn't going to break down. Finally he managed to free himself of the rope enough that he yowled for help that he could only pray might finally come. "MRRROWWW!"

The posse laughed at the two fragile pleas for them to stop the mission they had undertaken. "Ain't it sweet, boys?" growled their leader, his fur puffing out in annoyance. "Mother cat doesn't want us to hurt her baby boy. Tell me," he spoke suddenly in a soft and serious voice, leaning forward on his saddle. "Did you beg your dogman for mercy too, whore?"

Mary's fur turned a brighter shade of orange, and JD yowled, forcing back his tears. "SHE'S NOT MY MOTHER!"

"Too bad!" the leader snarled, whipping out another rope from inside of his dark jacket. "The two o' ya would'a looked purrfect swingin' together."

Mary's eyes met those of the scared kitten, her own fur fluffing out with silent fury. Something had happened to the boy's mother, and that was the only reason why he had sounded so indignant when he had declared that she was not his mother. He had lost his mother, and now he was about to lose his life - all because his ears flopped and that made these true monsters think that he was too different to deserve to live. She squared her shoulders, shouldered her gun, and aimed her pistol right for the catman in the lead. "Let the boy go," she demanded, her pointy ears laying back against her head as she heard the wavering tone of her voice. Damn it, she was trying to be strong, and still her fear was getting the better of her! She pressed her finger against the trigger. Her voice might shake, but she'd still stand her ground. She wouldn't let this innocent boy be harmed any further . . .

Another of the catmen fired, and his bullet knocked her pistol straight out of her hand. She yowled in dismay and started to move after the gun, but the leader's rope whipped around her slender shoulders and snatched her to the ground. "Stay in the dirt where ya belong, bitch," he told her. "I ain't ever hurt a queen 'fore today, but I might make an exception in yer case, what wit' ya tryin' ta protect this mutt." His horse danced beside her, and Mary squished herself into the ground, fighting the urge to pull herself into a small ball and protect her furry head. Her fluffy tail flashed about, and then, despite all her courage and strength, she screamed.

The whole town bustled at that scream. Some ran inside and slammed their doors. A few started forward but stopped when some of the posse turned their glares upon them. They inched backwards instead, leaving the catwoman who had helped them all at some point or another in their lives to defend herself. Only three kept moving forward as the leader urged his stallion onwards and off of the catwoman's tail.

He smirked down at her. "Sorry," he said coldly, no sign of any true regret in his voice for, in truth, there was none. "My horse got a little carried away. He smelled dog on the air." He snarled, his fangs flashing in the afternoon sunlight. "Now let that be a lesson ta ya, baby. Stay outta our way, 'til we're back in town, an' next time ya see us . . . " His deadly, yellow teeth lifted in a smile. His tattered ears flickered in excitement, and he licked his beer-stained lips. "Be real nice ta us." He winked at her. "Maybe then we'll ferget what a fool yer've been today."

Then his tail and voice lifted high into the air as he shouted, "COME ON, BOYS! WE GOT US A DOG MONSTER TA HANG!" They charged forward, heading toward the town's single cemetery and dragging JD behind them. He tore at the ropes holding him, his chocolate paws reaching out for Mary whose tail hung limply in her hands. Her green eyes lifted to his dark, chocolate orbs, and in those beautiful, misty eyes, he plainly read two messages. _I'm sorry,_ she said, and then more weakly and with a shame that he wished he could have told her she had no reason to feel, _I tried._

A white catman in a red jacket reached her side then, and that was the last JD saw before the dust clouds filled his eyes. He fell to the ground and continued to be pulled along behind the posse as Ezra gently gathered the lady newsreporter to him. He'd seen her around her town and read her paper, but he'd held no further interest in the lady until right now. His fur was fluffed, and he bit back a savage growl. His ears laid against his head as his very blood pulsated with the thought that the cretins had harmed not one fair lady this day but two!

"Are you all right, Missus Travis?" he questioned, his fluffy, pure white plume of a tail whisking about from underneath his coat tails.

"I . . . " Mary's voice shook. She stubbornly fought down the tears welling in her green eyes. "I'll be fine," she said, "but he won't be." She'd seen the stranger around town and heard the whispers that he was a poker shark, but still he had shown that he cared this day for he'd come to her. "Please," she said, turning begging eyes upon him, "we have to help him."

Ezra recoiled, dropping her hand, leaving the lady upon the ground, gathering his true emotions close into his paws, and quickly burying them. "Ah'm sorry," he said softly, his ears folding against his head, "but there's simply nothing Ah can do." He turned away and was surprised to see two toms he'd never noticed before walking purposefully down the dusty road. Their eyes were dark, their faces grim, and their fur and legs stiff. Ezra shook his head once as the wind, that suddenly felt cold despite the heat of the desert, whistled through his beautiful fur.

He didn't know who they were, but he knew what they would soon become. They are as good as dead, he thought and turned his back to them and the plight of the pupkit as well. Inez rushed pass him, hissing her anger and carrying her shotgun, and to Mary; he let her go.

They might die this day, but he would live. His many years of survival had taught him that there were some things with which a gentleman simply absolutely did not involve himself, and the disastrous, deadly plights of others, no matter how right or wrong, topped that list. He turned away and headed back to the saloon, intent upon a cold beer, a touch of a catnip, and a new game. His ears perked up as the wind continued to whistle, and despite himself, just before he could duck back into the safety of the saloon, Ezra looked back . . .

**To Be Concluded. . . **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Ezra, Inez, Mary, and the rest of the town watched as the two catmen, one on either side of the town, walked gradually down the boardwalk. The gang rode on ahead, yelling and beginning to shoot their guns again just for the sheer delight of hearing the powerful packs of their own pistols. Ezra slowly shook his fluffy, white head. There was no doubt in his mind that those two, foolish catmen were going to get themselves killed along with the kitpup, but yet, something stayed his feet from walking back inside.

Two pairs of green eyes skittered across the street to meet. The black and orange catmen had already nodded to each other when they'd started out, the slight inclines of their heads their only communication beside the locking of their eyes. The one who'd put his broom down to come after the villainous posse toted a musket over his muscular shoulders; the other was dressed in black and looked like he'd been hunting a reason to kill something for a week.

They left the boardwalk and continued walking toward the cemetery where the gang was dragging the little, Siamese-colored kitpup. They met in the middle of the street, did not bother to look at each other again, and kept walking until, far out of the sight of the townspeople, they came to the gate of the cemetery.

"You boys lookin' for a good time," the gang's leader called to them, noticing them at last as two of his men secured a rope over a tall, strong tree. He grinned, and his yellow eyes gleamed. "We're 'bout to have us a fine hangin'."

The ebony catman's green eyes gleamed solidly in response. He skimmed over the posse, knowing that he could take them alone and feeling even more confident with the orange stranger by his side. Then he focused his gaze on the leader. "Cut him loose," he demanded.

The posse went wild with laughter; both catmen took their uproarious chuckles in patient stride. "Reckon you'd all be happier if you just rode away," the orange catman drawled, his torn, left ear flicking a single time.

The posse laughed harder. "You shot a lot of holes in the air back there," Chris spoke. He grinned as he asked, "Anybody stop to reload?"

The laughter died, but the boss still smirked. "Ignore those idiots," he commanded, tossing away his lit cigar. "Let's hang this freak. They try to stop us, shoot 'im down."

The black and white tom began to look nervous. "Boss?"

"Yer either wit' us, or yer dead like 'em." The black and white nodded and tossed the rope to the gray, who smiled wickedly as he made a noose and dropped it over the still struggling Kitten's head.

When they went to raise the kitpup, the catmen fired their guns. The battle was swift and merciless. In a matter of seconds, most of the posse lay on the ground while the black and white ran away. The kitpup hissed and spat with the fear that still clogged his judgement; his raking claws almost shredded the rope to nothingness as he snatched it off of his neck and threw it behind him. "Thank you!" he cried, rushing toward the other two catmen as three on horses came up behind them. "Thank you!"

The catmen turned away from the Kit. The orange stranger's eyes met Chris' again. "Saloon?" he offered. The ebony tom nodded and walked right pass Buck, Josiah, and Nathan who had just rode up.

Buck shook his head as he surveyed the damage Chris was leaving in his wake. "If he had to kill something," Josiah advised in his deep and rumbling voice, his long, gray tail whisking, "at least he killed those who would do the Devil's work."

"Yeah . . . " Buck's voice trailed off as he watched Chris going back toward the saloon with a stranger without even paying him any notice. A young tomcat chased after them, his chocolate tail twisting swiftly around in the hot air behind him like mad. "At least that," he agreed, turning Beavis after the others. What had Chris gotten them into this time, he wondered, and why did the air hang heavy with the smell of wet dog?

**The End**

_At least, of this adventure of The Magnificent Seven Cats . . . _


End file.
